


Sweet Lullaby

by CeslaToil



Category: Original Work
Genre: 2020 Bad Fairies Falling in Love Good, F/F, National Novel Writing Month
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27348346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeslaToil/pseuds/CeslaToil
Summary: Hey guys, it's been a while, but I've decided that this year has been absolute shit, and I just want to write about fairies fucking and that's it! Some of the characters you'll see in this have appeared in my fan works as OC's, but they're not attached to any other IP's in this context. Just sit back, relax, and pls be nice while I post cringe run on sentences and spelling errors all over the place.
Kudos: 1





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, it's been a while, but I've decided that this year has been absolute shit, and I just want to write about fairies fucking and that's it! Some of the characters you'll see in this have appeared in my fan works as OC's, but they're not attached to any other IP's in this context. Just sit back, relax, and pls be nice while I post cringe run on sentences and spelling errors all over the place.

Layla wanted to throw up.

During this whole sad, sorry couple of months, pervasive nausea of both a literal and figurative sense had been her closest companion. She woke to it in the morning, alone in her childhood bedroom in her mother’s cozy flat. It followed her throughout the day, as she moped in the parlor, nursing herself on tawdry romances and honeyed fruit tarts from the New Athens Patisserie. It waited for her alone in the dark of night in her large, lonely bed as she tried and failed to fall asleep.

_Stupid Nicky._ The stream of tears had dried up weeks ago, leaving behind a barren desert of bitterness. Layla instinctively reached over to fidget with her wedding ring, a habit she’d had for the last five years since it’d been placed on her left finger, but she grasped at nothing but her own smooth skin. She’d thrown the ring in the duck pond in Avalon Park the terrible night it all started. She wished now that she’d thrown it straight at his fat, balding head.

“Layla?”

Chanda Rehman ducked her head into the parlor. She and Layla shared the same wide brown eyes, long dark hair, and full, pouting mouth, though today Chanda’s eyes were filled with worry, and her pouting lips were twisted into a frown. 

“Have you tried to leave the house at all today?”

“… Will you be mad if I didn’t, mama?”

Chanda sighed. “Not mad. Never mad. But darling, you must get out of the house, at least to breathe in some fresh air, or see some friends. It isn’t healthy, shutting yourself inside like an old spinster gone mad—”

“Aren’t I a spinster now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous dear, you’re a divorcee,” said Chanda brightly. “That’s much more fun. Think of the men and women available to you now that you’ve finally cut Nicholas loose. That’s much more fun that being cooped up in here while summer burns away out there.”

“Were you privy to some different version of the story of my divorce that I wasn’t?” Layla shook her head. “I didn’t ‘cut Nicky loose,’ he left me for that chorus girl from Mosswood Swamp!”

“All the more reason to forget about him,” sniffed Chanda. Layla wanted to roll her eyes, her mother had never truly liked Nicky to begin with, this little incident with the Mosswood Swamp girl had just reaffirmed all her suspicions. How humiliating to have your mother be right about your good for nothing ex husband.

“Well that’s going to be a bit difficult—“ Layla began, but at last the churning in her stomach had won, and she ran off to the washroom, her head buried in a chamber pot until every crumb of blackberry tart had been emptied out.

A warm hand rubbed her back as she tried to gain what very little dignity she had left back in her possession.

“Dear,” said Chanda quietly, “are you quite sure you want to keep this one? It’s not as if Nicholas is going to be of any real help.”

Layla sighed. She had certainly thought about ending the pregnancy many times over the last few weeks. But what good would that be?

“This baby was supposed to be part of the plan,” whispered Layla. “The only thing that’s gone right in months. I don’t want to lose it, it’s not their fault the dad’s a cheating, faithless arsehole.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Chandra nodded. “Come on, I’ll make you a pot of ginger tea. That ought to relieve the morning sickness by just a hint. Besides, I want to tell you the good news.”

“What good news?”

“You’ve got a caller. More of an invitation, really.” There was a musical little lilt to Chanda’s voice as she spoke. “Oh but you must see it for yourself, it’s gorgeous, splendid really!”

Layla tried to offer her mother a smile that came out a pained grimace. She wasn’t in the mood for any invitations, no parties, no galas, and certainly no nights out at the theatre, not while Nicky was in town, certainly.

Her reservations melted away once she saw the envelope on the table. It was made of delicate, silver paper that shimmered in the light of the golden afternoon sun that poured through the windows in the dining room. The purple wax sealing the envelope had the crest of New Athens, a smiling sun beaming down upon an olive tree, stamped upon it. The crest of the royal palace!

“Tanya!” Layla laughed for what felt like the first time in ages.

“Told you it was good news,” Chanda beamed. Layla wasted no time ripping the letter open, digging out the letter waiting inside with eager, trembling fingers. First, there was an eggshell colored card, printed with bright, colorful calligraphy on the front, that read as follows:

Most Treasured Guest Layla Rehman,

You are hereby invited as an honored guest to Her Royal Majesty, Highest Belle Dame of Faerie, Queen Titania Valiant, in this month’s upcoming Litha Festival. Midsummer draws ever closer as the wheel of the year turns, so your reply is requested upon delivery.

Yours Respectfully,

Lady Cobweb, Head Counsel to The Queen.

Another letter, written on simple paper in slender, looping hand, was accompanied with the card.

Hello Dear Layla,

My apologies for the overwrought card, Cobweb insisted that the invitation be formal and official in the name of the crown or whatever such nonsense. It’s all the same: I’d like to see you at the palace! I’ve heard about the… unpleasantness with Nicky. I’m dreadfully sorry. You must be hurting terribly, but please, if you’d like, come to the palace. It’s quite tedious at the moment; the whole place is over run with preparations for not only the festival, but for the upcoming visit with the Dwarvish emissary. They chose an awfully inconvenient time for a diplomatic drop in. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in ages. But I’ll gladly make room in my schedule to fit you in, my dearest friend.

Don’t bother writing, simply come to the palace, as soon as you can, as fast as you can.

Rescue me from unending bordom!

Love,

Tanya.

“Well, what do you say,” Chanda asked, waggling her eyebrows as she spoke. “Could be fun, gallivanting off to the palace…”

Layla clutched the letter Tanya had written tightly in her hands. She and Tanya had been friends since university, and a more unlikely pair couldn’t possibly exist. Whilst Layla painted her fellow actor’s faces for plays during class and went to wild parties at night, Tanya, a full-fledged fairy princess, was studying Political Science in their shared dorm suite. After a few weeks of the usual getting to know your new roommate awkwardness, however, the girls became fast friends. Tanya, behind carefully constructed walls of grace and poise, had a sparkling wit, and made Layla laugh as they talked about which professors bored them and what stupid thing Chad the Literature Major was going on about in the lecture hall that day. Tanya was there for Layla whenever her newest romance of the month went soured and curdled, providing chocolates and a shoulder to cry on with each heartache.

Layla flushed, however, when she thought about how beautiful she thought Tanya was at the time. Elves are always beautiful, of course, it was almost eerie, the shimmering glow of their skin, big, sparkling eyes that bore into your soul, lithe, ageless bodies not even a master artist could begin to copy in mere paints or marble. There was something more to it, though, when it came to Tanya. Her eyes, sparkling and amber colored, were kindly and warm when Layla was the focus of their gaze. Her smile was wry but charming, and more often than not she’d thought about kissing those lips during the nights they’d fallen asleep together on the old beat up couch in their common room.

“I’m not sure, mama,” said Layla. “I mean, of course I miss Tanya, but I really don’t think I’m in any state to travel.”

“Travel? The palace is right in the city!” Chanda dismissed Layla’s concern with a wave of her hand. “And you’re not so far along that you can’t still have fun with your friends. I’ll pack you some nausea lozenges for the trip and you’ll be fine. Go enjoy yourself, you deserve some small joy after this whole production.”

“Why mama, I do believe you want to get me out of your house,” said Layla dryly.

“If it’s to spend a few days at the palace, away from all this unpleasantness, then yes, get out,” said Chanda, tussling her daughter’s hair. Layla laughed again, the second time that day. Perhaps this was a good sign.

Layla stared at the invitation for a long time, before finally saying, “Could you get me a pen?”

“Of course my dear,” said Chanda, who left the room and in no time at all returned to the tea room with a fountain pen. Layla thanked her mother, took the pen, and wrote a simple ‘yes’ at the bottom of the card. Suddenly, the card began to shift and twitch, turning into a paper butterfly that fluttered around the room until Chanda opened a window, letting it take to the wind outside. Layla watched as the butterfly flew down the street until it turned a corner toward the palace and disappeared.

“Well done dear,” said Chanda, patting her daughter on the back. “Now, let’s get you washed up; I’ll pack your nice suits for you to wear. Will you need any money, do you think? I’m sure Tanya will provide for you, you’re her guest, but just in case you felt like stretching your legs and checking out any shops in the meanwhile—”

“Mama, you’re fussing again.”

“That’s my job, dear.”

“Well,” sighed Layla, “I guess that’s all right then.” Chanda was about to leave the room when Layla stopped her. “If it’s all right… would you mind terribly if I took the sketch book? Just something to do while I’m there?”

Chanda smiled. “Of course my dear. Whatever you need to be happy.”


	2. RSVP

Queen Titania sat primly upon her silver throne, desperately craving a cigarette. A dull headache pounded the inside of her skull as Councilman Foxglove presented his case for increasing the Department of Agriculture’s budget in the next quarter.

“What a snore,” mumbled Puck from the corner of his mouth.

 _No shit_ , Titania thought, suppressing both an urge to yawn and to laugh. Perhaps Councilman Foxglove was extremely proud of the data he collected on the on the importance of wheat, soy, and barley production, because the Queen swore just two hours ago he’d said this exact same statement word for word somewhere in the middle of this droning speech.

A quick scan of the throne room revealed the other representatives and courtiers looked bored as well: more than a few heads began to droop, one courtier, little Lady Poppyseed, was actively napping in her seat. The only person who remained focused was Cobweb. Pale as icy snow save for her coal black eyes, Lady Cobweb watched Councilman Foxglove as if transfixed, taking notes diligently in her slim leather notebook all the while. Surely once this session was over, Cobweb would slip the little book to Titania, who would then have to spend another couple of hours going over the exact same points the Councilman was currently droning on about.

 _Oh joy._ The desire for nicotine burned white hot.

“What in the world is the purpose of this,” whispered Puck again. “We get it: food good, farmers are the backbone and life blood of this great Realm, let’s just approve the proposed budget already and move on with our lives.”

“Puck, please be quiet,” hissed Princess Peaseblossom fretfully. “He’s going to hear you!”

“Are you quite sure? I think he’s driven everyone senseless with this drab monologue.” Puck tossed his long, silvery hair over his shoulder. “His ears are probably too stuffed with curds and whey to hear anything I’ve got to say on the matter. I could call him just about anything: A bore, a boorish bore, a boring boorish bore who’s boring these boring facts and figures into our skulls like the tusks of a great boar—”

Titania raised her hand, a quick, subtle gesture that told her bodyguard “That’ll do,” and Puck fell silent. The boy wasn’t completely off base; the Queen had every intention of passing the proposed budget. Winter had been hard the last year, and the more relief efforts made to help the people of Faerie, so much the better. Now if only the good Councilman would get to the point!

Titania’s little sister, Peaseblossom, had made a good show of listening at the beginning of the session, but judging by the amount of doodles illustrating the margins of her notepad, that hasn’t lasted too long. _Poor thing_ , Titania thought. She remembered her own first time going to court when their father had been King. She had been so disappointed to learn that a day in court was not all fraught melodramas of political intrigue and heated debates about the People’s rights. Sometimes, most of the time, truth be told, it was only tedious budget meetings.

Still though, Titania thought, it’s deadly boring to sit through for a teenager. She caught Peaseblossom’s eye and gave her a sympathetic smile, as if to say, “Just hang on a bit further.”

“I will now conclude my statement on the production of wheat,” said Councilman Foxglove, which elicited a chorus of excited whispers before he continued,” and move on to my next point, irrigation.”

The queen and her council knew better than to groan, but it was heavily implied during the silence.

“More like irritation,” mumbled Puck.

“Now, the proposed budget includes new renovations to the aqueduct leading out of the city into the countryside--” Councilman Foxglove began, but his speech was cut short by a coughing fit. The poor Councilman hacked and wheezed for an uncomfortable minute, until finally something plopped out of his mouth onto the throne room floor. A fat, green, slimy bullfrog croaked indignantly on the floor, to the shock of all present, most of all Foxglove.

“Oh dear,” the Councilman rasped. His face was flushed red, both from the coughing fit and embarrassment. He tried to continue his speech, but his resulted in another coughing fit, and of course, another frog. Thus began a quick scrabble of wills: Councilman Foxglove would try to speak, only to be interrupted by an intruding amphibian crawling out of his mouth. By the time a fully grown salamander had plopped onto the floor, Titania had seen enough.

“That will do, Councilman,” she said, her tone apologetic to the mortified Foxglove. “We will end today’s session and you’ll continue your presentation on the morrow, once you’re feeling a bit better. Until then, court is dismissed.”

Once they were all out of the throne room, Puck burst into a fit of giggles.

“That was a really mean trick to play on poor mister Foxglove,” Peaseblossom chided.

“Oh, come on now,” Puck said, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “It isn’t my fault if the Councilman had a frog in his throat. Unless you’re implying that I jinxed him, of course. In that case, well, yes, I suppose that is my fault.”

Lady Cobweb came marching up to the three of them, yanking on the pointed corner of Puck’s right ear.

“Ouch! Let me go!”

“You insolent, sophomoric little whelp,” said Cobweb coldly. “Where do you get off, making a ridiculous scene like that in front of the council? You’re lucky it wasn’t the visiting embassy or I’d scalp you here and now!”

“Let him go, Cobweb,” Titania commanded. Reluctantly, Cobweb released Puck with a huff. “Puck,” said Titania, “would you kindly care to explain why you thought releasing an entire swamp’s worth of wetland creatures was an appropriate and wise course of action this afternoon?”

Puck grimaced, and for a moment looked properly contrite before regaining his usual bravado. “Well, you see your majesty, it was for your own protection?”

“Really now?” Titania smirked.

“Yes of course,” Puck nodded. “As your sworn sword and shield, it’s my duty to protect you from any and all that would harm you, and that dreadful Councilman Foxglove, why, he was nearly about to bore you to death, I reckon! I just had to intervene, or else we all would have been as good as dead and buried.”

“My most valiant champion,” Queen Titania deadpanned. She couldn’t help but smile back at the boy; when he wasn’t being a pest, he was quite charming. “All the same, somebody really ought to clean up the mess in there and find a nice place for all those creatures to go. I can trust that you will handle it, right?”

Puck grimaced again, but nodded in agreement. He turned to Peaseblossom. “What do you say, Princess? Care to help me round up some frogs? We can dump them off at the pond in the park afterwards!”

Peaseblossom smiled back at Puck. “Okay. But you really ought to apologize to Mister Foxglove after that.”

“Yes, yes, fine, whatever you wish, just as long as he doesn’t bore us all about soil ph again.” Puck clapped a hand on Peaseblossom’s shoulder. “Now let’s go!”

When the two ran off, Titania sighed and took a seat on a bench facing the courtyard. The sun was warm and golden that afternoon, it still wasn’t quite hot enough to force folks inside yet. Titania reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out a silver cigarette case. She lit the tip of her cigarette with a snap of her fingers, and breathed in deep the sharp smelling cloud of tobacco smoke.

Cobweb took the seat next to her, flipping through her leather notebook before speaking, “you’re being too soft on him. He should know his place.”

“He’s a goofy kid,” replied Titania, exhaling a puff of heady smoke. “Kids are going to act up. Besides, it wouldn’t be as rough if it were not the sixth day in a row we’ve all had to sit in court. Wasn’t today supposed to be Oberon’s day in court? What good is having a king if he can’t carry his own share of the responsibility?”

Lady Cobweb sighed. “Oberon still hasn’t written back when he plans to return to New Athens. More than likely he’s still out in the wilds with his hunting party.”

Titania took another drag from her cigarette. Of course he was still conveniently out of the Capitol city. Titania hadn’t seen much of her husband in months since they married almost a year ago. They were both well aware that the marriage wasn’t a love match, merely a political partnership. It was strictly business. However, even sales clerks were expected to punch in for their shift once in a while. Titania hadn’t known a moment’s rest since her coronation, meanwhile Oberon, her dear husband, had insisted that he had important work to do outside the kingdom, which, according to the crown’s expense ledger the past year, entailed long hunting trips to the mountains and nights out at the Tourney Arena.

Oberon was more than willing to pay for these expenses out of his own pocket of course, his House was noble and overflowing with old money. _Even still_ , fumed the Queen _, I wouldn’t mind a night out for once. Why does he get the honor?_

“You’re slouching dear,” said Lady Cobweb. She put a cold, slender hand on Titania’s shoulder, guiding the Queen back to proper, regal posture. “And try not to pout, lest any of the Council see. You may allow Puck to act like a wild undergrad student whenever he’s in public, but you can’t afford to let anyone see yourself go lax.”

“Yes Lady Cobweb.”

“You’re still so new to the throne, I don’t want anyone getting the idea that you’re a pushover—”

“I _know_ , Lady Cobweb.”

“… But if you ‘Lady Cobweb’ me again in that petulant tone, I’ll wrap your ears just like when you were a slip of a girl, Queen or no,” Cobweb elbowed Titania in the arm. The Queen retaliated with a jab of her own, and the two Elvish women laughed. “You really are doing quite well, you know,” said Cobweb reassuringly. “Your father was a good man, a good King, but I don’t think even he had the patience and focus you’ve had these last few months. Just stick it out a bit further, and I’ll arrange for Oberon to pick up the slack once he returns to New Athens.”

“Thank you,” said Titania, warmly. She took one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it to the ground, crushing it beneath her heel. Lady Cobweb curled her lip, but said nothing. “If I’m being honest,” Queen Titania continued, “I still feel like I’m chafing under all this. Every session seems the most boring and yet the most never wracking ordeal of the day!”

“The mantle of an entire nation is a heavy one to carry,” nodded Cobweb. “But you’ve got the shoulders to carry it off. Now quit slouching. And don’t smoke so much, you’ll start to stink.”

Titania bit her lip, but squared back her shoulders all the same. She took a quick moment to soak in the sun, the gentle warmth of late spring that would soon blaze into summer heat. The courtyard’s rose bushes and magnolia trees were beginning to blossom, filling the air with a delicate floral scent. Butterflies and hummingbirds pecked at the blooms for nectar, one paper white butterfly had taken a moment to land in her rose colored curls.

“Oh my,” gasped Cobweb. Before Titania could ask what was wrong, the weight on top of her head shifted. The Queen shook her head, and a card landed on her lap.

“Well look at that,” Titania laughed, her voice like the peal of silver bells, “it’s the card we sent Layla!”

“Ah yes,” sniffed Lady Cobweb. “The _actress_.”

“My _best friend_ ,” Titania corrected, looking at Cobweb sharply. “Who happens to be an actress, yes.” Titania used to be a bit jealous of Layla, to tell the truth: she came from a family of traveling performers who were favorites at the New Athens Globe. Such a free spirited lifestyle was completely unknown to Titania, ever since her father was crowned King years ago. But Layla was sweet and gentle; it didn’t take long for Titania to like her. They spent their university days at each other’s side, inseparable, sharing their most fantastical dreams and secret hopes for the future between the odd adventure here and there. Titania’s always seemed so fixed and predestined, become a good and just Queen, but Layla’s changed seemingly with each new phase of the moon. An actress, an opera singer, an artist’s muse, a knight in gleaming white armor: if it was splendid and romantic, Layla wanted it for herself.

“For someone who just bellyached about the pressures of the crown,” Lady Cobweb grumbled, “you do seem rather eager to dive into the baggage of a newly divorced woman.”

“There’s always time for best friend drama,” said Titania with a grin. “She needs a break just as badly as I do. Surely she’d enjoy some downtime out of the public eye in the comforts the palace has to offer. I mean, somebody has to enjoy them.”

Titania opened the card, and saw that Layla had written ‘yes’ on the bottom. “Fabulous! Lady Cobweb, have a carriage sent to Chanda Rehman’s flat downtown and have them pick Layla up. I’ll tell the cook to fix lamb chops for dinner, she’ll enjoy that!”

Cobweb sighed deeply, but did as she was asked. “As you wish, your Majesty.”


End file.
